


honesty can keep you alive

by owardenmywarden



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lies, Non-Graphic Violence, who the heck knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 01:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15132299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owardenmywarden/pseuds/owardenmywarden
Summary: local tiefling Kerai Falles has a bit of a problem with lying. the fact that he tends to lie even to his found family, combined with a good many people who want him dead, does not have good implications.





	honesty can keep you alive

**Author's Note:**

> if you wanna know more about this Boy feel free to send me an ask on my [tumblr](http://owardenmywarden.tumblr.com)!

Kerai only really knew he was in trouble when they smashed the stone.  


He was in trouble before that, of course. When he told a different city name to the family to start with. When a group of people in the city he truly went to decided they didn’t like his look. Hell, when he woke up in the dark with his arms tied behind his back he had a pretty good idea. But it was the stone breaking – the spark of the enchantment fizzling out, how it fractured into three different pieces – that really let it sink in.

“That’ll keep you from callin’ on any friends for help,” the offender said almost casually, a human man missing both teeth and manners. He couldn’t remember if he’d seen him before. Maybe he had. The bad attitudes of the people living there all seemed to blend together. 

“You say that like I don’t have people who already know where I am,” Kerai said, keeping his voice steady and absolutely not betraying the lie. The man just chuckled, an ugly sound that had him wondering just how a man like him could have any sort of friends.

He was so dead. So, so unbelievably dead. Would they even be able to find his corpse? Alas, poor Kerai Falles, he might be dead in a ditch somewhere who knows! Hell, they’d probably kill him anyways if he got back alive. “That’ll keep you from lying next time, you son of a bitch.” Which… is fair.

“We knew you were lyin’ from the second you showed up,” the man continued almost conversationally. He was turned away on the other side of the room at a table, handling something which looked curved and sharp and something Kerai absolutely did not want anywhere near him. He twisted his prosthetic hand, trying to find a way to get a tool that could work at the ropes. “Few years ago, coupl’a rough tieflings with faces like yours showed in town. Said somethin’ about a kid of theirs who ran off – I figure that’s you.”

He kept his face carefully confused, neutral. The man only waited for a moment for a response before he continued. “Said they wanted you back? Here’s the thing, though. Those two – they killed one o’ my boys for lookin’ at ‘em funny. I figured I could do them the same favor.”

Kerai was going to kill his parents. Haunt the shit out of them, maybe. When will they learn that their actions have consequences? He kept all of this out of his face as he said, “I’m sorry for your loss, truly I am, but I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I’m- “    
The man turned with the blade, causing his voice to falter. He walked over casually and knelt before Kerai, looking him in the eyes. “You should stop lyin’.” He let that hang for a few seconds before he slashed with the blade – and Kerai, who had been sawing through the ropes for the past few minutes, grabbed his arm and lightning burned into him.   
He’d feel worse if the man didn’t just talk about killing him. The man dropped the instrument with widened eyes and Kerai scrambled to his feet, breath hissing out in pain at the new - though thankfully not deep - slash across his chest, close to his neck.   
“Sorry about this,” he said before hitting him across the face and causing him to crumple. “I really don’t feel like dying today.”

He didn’t bother to check for a pulse, but the man wasn’t actively bleeding out so he might be fine. With the initial threat gone, he stood and examined the room further. Packed dirt, no light except for a single torch. The only real furniture was the table which, upon further inspection, held all sorts of nasty things. If he listened hard enough he thought he could hear muffled conversation, but apparently whoever made this cellar didn’t want anyone to hear their fun torture sessions.  
Across the room he found the bag he brought with him to the city, with everything luckily intact inside. The only exit was what looked like a trap door with a ladder, as makeshift as the rest of the place. With groans from the man behind him, he decided to test his luck with the only way to leave. He pushed the trap door open into the cool night air only to hear a “Hey, you’re not-” 

A guard. Just his luck. He was able to take advantage of their surprise to grab their arm. More lightning arced from the crystal in his palm to them as he hauled himself up. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to hit them as hard as it did the man downstairs. The guard swang with their club and hit him in the side, and - pain, Gods, enough for spots to form in his vision. There was a cracking sound, and almost on reflex he pointed at the guard and fire wreathed around them. They staggered backwards, more preoccupied with combating the sudden flames, and he had to take a second to breathe through the pain still burning from his side. Later, he had to deal with that… later. He took a few steps backward with no real response from the guard, but then… a bolt found itself in his shoulder. The momentum almost knocked him over but he was able to catch himself somehow, looking up to see someone with a crossbow framed in a window. He recognized the building - the inn he stayed at the night before.

He decided, wholly and truthfully, that this city could get fucked. 

Instead of doing anything to hurt the person who just shot him, he just… didn’t even bother to raise his hand. Every open window of the inn slammed shut. He took a few steps back into the shadows and, when no further bolts seemed forthcoming, used what he could to sneak away. He had to stop a few times to try and breathe through waves of pain, but he got out of the city and on the road.  
Not even an hour in and he knew that he never wanted to do this again. The Undercity wasn’t far, but it would already take at least a day for him to walk the whole way. More, with his injuries. He needed to get back, let them know he wasn’t dead even if every step made him want to be.  



End file.
